


her silent night, his holy night

by kangelique



Series: The Emma and Killian Winter Fluff [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: "Silent Night", Christmas Fluff, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Emma and Killian have multiple kids, Emma will quiet those fears, F/M, Gen, Killian has fears about being a good dad, Love assurances, Pregnant Emma Swan, Sentimental, Singing, Trouble Sleeping, True Love, piano playing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28138845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kangelique/pseuds/kangelique
Summary: Emma is his light.His children are his life.But Emma can't sleep. Her suffering is his suffering, so what is the cure? He will sing and he can't believe he hadn't thought of it before.He will sing and and chase all their fears away in time for Christmas Eve.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Series: The Emma and Killian Winter Fluff [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588822
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	her silent night, his holy night

**her silent night, his holy night:**

The moon admonished Killian from afar. Like any sailor whose body and heart had lived at sea, it knew the moon’s appearance meant it was time to rest for the night, but his body and heart refused to find rest if Emma would not follow. He continued rubbing his hand soothingly up and down her belly, wondering if the calluses on his palm were comforting on her skin given that she was so still in her concentration. A short round of breeze slipped through the crack of the window, carrying the familiar smell of salt to his nose where it was buried in her hair, wheedling his eyes to droop in time to the lullaby of the sea playing at the harbor. Alas, the crashing waves were as well known to his ears as Emma’s growing frustration. Her back tensed against his chest and she pushed his hand away with a grumble, kicking the covers off and startling him out of his slight daze when his arms were suddenly cold and empty. 

“It’s not working,” Emma said with a huff. She shook her head, kneading her thumbs into her temples as her shoulders sagged. “I can’t sleep.” Her voice, echoing his own unspoken despair, roused him to sit upright behind her and sweep her hair to one side in order to press a kiss to her neck. 

“Very well, what other methods shall we try?” 

“I don’t know, it’s not like Whale gave us a list,” she replied bitterly. He frowned when he recalled the doctor’s advice. ‘ _ Try to keep her stress free, it’s the best bet you got on if you don’t want any more complications’.  _ Sordid advice, in his opinion. Maintaining their stress levels had raised in difficulty when their child had tried to come early multiple times, frightening them both to their knees. 

Emma sighed and turned to tuck her head under his chin. “I’m tired.” He dipped his cheek against her hair and wrapped his arms around her as much as her stomach would allow, fingers meeting his stump as they settled on her belly button. At that moment, a sharp kick bounced against his hand and her hand tightened on his cheek. “Baby, tell our baby to stop,” she whispered. 

He prayed the child would calm soon, but the past weeks had gone with his prayers neglected so he simply mumbled sweet nothings into her scalp and stroked through the tangled locks -an affirmation of their efforts to find the right position. Emma had insisted countless times he slumber anyway, but her suffering was his suffering. He could not desert her in this state, much too similar to their nights in Camelot when exhaustion would arrive to claim him and force him to abandon her to her dark thoughts. 

The experiences with their other children had been less challenging. Hope, their thirteen year old, had displayed fussiness since the womb, but luckily Emma’s humming lulled her as well as Charles, their nine year old, had suckled his thumb and almost instantly halted his blows on Emma. Leia, their five year old, had been light flutters for attention, but normally a tale from him with his lips right on Emma’s belly had done the trick. They’d hushed all three to sleep with humming and storytelling, what else could -

Bloody hell.  _ Of course.  _

“I have an idea, love,” Killian announced with a grin, swiveling around to land on his feet and snatch his shirt off the floor. Once his brace and hook were secured, he turned to catch Emma stifling a yawn with her hand as she adjusted on her side, already laying back on the pillow. 

“Do anything, I’m desperate,” she mumbled, closing her eyes. 

He chuckled and leaned forward to brush a lock off her nose. “Well I hope to remedy that, darling.” He gazed at her softly, palm caressing her chin and trailing his fingers to cradle her cheek, preparing her for her biggest enemy. “However it cannot be performed unless you stand with me.”

She huffed, eyes snapping open. When she saw his firmly arched eyebrow, she whined. “This better be good.”

“Have I ever let you down,” Killian asked. 

“How about you  _ help me  _ down,” Emma countered, growling when the elbows she dug back against the mattress were of no help and her feet flayed. She flashed him a glare when he chuckled, motioning wildly for him to grab her hands. He did so gently, kissing all knuckles before he slipped his arm around her waist and hefted her up. 

Charles’ tendency to drop his shoes and sweaters where he pleased and Leia constantly lugging her Barbie Dreamhouse and dolls collection between her room and the living room caused the hallway to look as though it were an obstacle course as Killian squinted ahead, balancing her wobbly steps with his hand on her hip and his hook to the side for her grasp in support. 

Emma pouted. “I feel like a giant whale.”

He grinned and ducked his head to peck her cheek. “According to the magical box, our little lass is at the watermelon stage.”

She snorted. “Tell me about it, I have to pee every five minutes.” He stroked her arm once and then skipped in front of her to guide her down to the bottom floor. “I regret buying a house with stars,” Emma suddenly blurted, arching to press her hand into her back as her nose scrunched. “Why didn’t you think of this? You were the one who picked it,” she said, grumbling. 

He nosed her ear, seeking to pacify her complaint. “As I recall, you were the one who proclaimed the furnishing was to your liking.”

“My judgement forgot to remember how much we fuck.” He granted her a saucy wink in that regard. 

Truthfully, at moments they were in such a haste, time too precious with three children running amok, that matters like contraception were forgotten and hence why Killian urged her toward the sofa. Emma fell backward, panting heavily, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward despite himself as his fingers danced lightly along her wonderfully large belly. His little lass was in there, quite the pirate, and his heart warmed. By the gods, he could not regret her.

“What are you doing?” Emma whispered, lips spreading into a smile. Her hand caught his mid-caress. Their palms nuzzled against one another, fingers entwining as tight as her grip on his shirt when he began to pull away. She shook her head and said, oh so soft and pleading, “Who told you to stop.”

He beamed. “You like it, Swan?”

“I love it.”

“Lay here, if you please.” He coaxed her down onto the cushions, and she went, albeit reluctantly. 

Emma frowned. “I like our bed.”

“Oh I’m aware.” He wiggled his eyebrows wickedly and she rolled her eyes. “Alas, you will have to trust me.”

Sweet, utter tenderness filled her expression. “Of course I trust you.” 

“Close your eyes,” he said, proceeding backwards to the piano bench. “Try to repose, no peeking, Swan!”

“Okay!” She giggled and the sound was music to his ears. 

Once he was comfortable, he elevated his hand to the keys. His fingers, as per usual, tentatively touched them, lips parting and eyes falling closed as the C resonated past his wrist and alongside his arm and over his shoulder, straightening his posture as his head rose to the ceiling. His hook tapped the rhythm, fingers gaining courage as he  _ felt  _ the black and white, twirling and swaying slowly, imploringly to the song rousing from the dregs of his mind. He cleared his throat, preparing for the lyrics, tasting the hush on his tongue. 

Despite his back to her, her smile thawed his doubt. Would he be a good father? 

Would his little lass forgive the black in his soul? 

He was not a man of religion, but he was a man of hope. 

And yet, he believed every one of his children to be holy. 

Would they believe it of him?

**********

_ “Silent night, holy night _

_ All is calm, all is bright” _

The corners of Emma’s mouth lifted gently. A soft and lazy smile stretched across her face even though her eyelids drooped. His voice was enchanting and dramatic in all right places. Their kid seemed to agree, abandoning the strength of her kicks just like the circles Emma was making around her belly slowed. Both of them stopped their motion for his singing, for the way he easily transformed from a worried dad to a loving pianist. 

“ _ Round yon virgin, mother and child _

_ Holy infant, so tender and mild” _

She bit back a content sigh, hesitant to interrupt him. Of course he’d bring her here. He and the piano had been inseparable ever since Belle had gifted it to them for Charles’ birthday. Charles had been ecstatic the first few weeks, running to it after he finished his homework, telling Henry to watch his piano tutorials on youtube with him every time Henry came over from Regina’s. Killian had trailed behind him, encouraging his practice, but in the end Charles’ ‘I want to be a musician’ phase disappeared into a ‘I want to be an astronaut’ phase after they bought him a Buzz Lightyear. 

Now the piano owned Killian most evenings. It was amazing to see his face changed from broody to joyful, from fearful to-

“Mama?”

Emma glanced at Killian, but he was lost to the world, far, far away in his head. She looked at Leia, in her cute Disney princess flannel shirt and matching pants stamped with Rapunzel, Belle, and Cinderella’s faces wrapped in hearts all the way to her Minnie Mouse flippers, and didn’t have the heart to send her back to bed with her big, curious green eyes.

She brought a finger to her lips and gestured for Leia to come here, scooting back to give her room. Leia went eagerly, grunting as she used Emma’s legs for leverage before nuzzling her cheek on Emma’s lap. Charles poofed out of nowhere, startling them both in his cloud of white smoke. He coughed, waving his lack of practice away, and then he grinned in response to her raised eyebrow before he climbed onto the couch and curled himself into her front, tucking his head under her chin. All of their heads snapped up at Hope’s pounding footsteps, abruptly stopping at the sight of Leia and Charles. She winced, mouthing ‘Sorry’, but Emma shook her head and gestured her forward so she could kiss her hair as Hope plopped cross-legged on the floor. 

“ _ Sleep in heavenly peace, ooh _

_ Sleep, sleep in heaven, heavenly peace.” _

She closed her eyes and sighed, doing her best to alternate from caressing one of her kid’s hair to the next as their chests rose and fell with hers. 

God, Killian was so wrong. 

He was already a great father. 

**********

He ceased his playing with one last, vibrant F major. “ _ Silent night, holy night _ ,” faded from his mouth and encompassed his senses as if in farewell. He wasn’t quite sure he was ready to stand and face a new chapter, face another little lass who would inquire about Neverland and his tattoo and the purpose for why at every dawn he patted his hook to their hearts and told them to protect. 

They, oh so perceptive, saw the pull of loss on certain days when his demons came to yap louder. They, with their innocent embraces and avid questions, who would someday know they were loving a murderer -” _ Was  _ a murderer,” Emma thankfully reminded him. “That’s not who you are anymore. You’re a hero now and remember they’re going to see the best in you.” 

So far they had, but what if it didn’t endure? 

Emma had - _ Emma. _

“Love?” Killian whispered. “Has she…” His eyes widened at the delightful sight before him. His wee ones, all snuggled close to his Swan, vacating their age to be babes once more. He stood slowly, approaching with light footsteps, and a single finger flying to his lips when Hope stirred. She rubbed her eye and muffled a yawn with her other hand, nudging her spectacles up her nose. She shrugged when he arched an eyebrow in Charles and Leia’s direction but then fond smiles dimpled both their cheeks. 

He could not be angry at them for seeking their mum, after all. Given the chance, he too saddled up near Emma. Together, he and Hope managed to untangle Charles and Leia without awakening Emma. Leia stumbled into his leg, blinking wearily, but Hope caught under her arms before she could fall. On the other hand, Charles collapsed against his stomach, prompting Killian’s arms around his shoulders and the curve of his hook to nestle through his hair down to his nape a couple times before his son weakly flicked his wrist and vanished beneath his eyes. Near the railing, Hope snickered, shaking her head in time with Killian’s at Charles’ flare for the dramatic. They traded soft goodnights and he prolonged his kiss on each of their foreheads before they scurried up the stairs. 

Finally, he turned to Emma. 

“Killian?” she muttered as he gently, carefully slipped his arm underneath her knees. His fingers steadied themselves on her hip, grasping her side as his stump held her neck, and it was with his heart on his gaze that he found the strength to lift her toward his chest. 

“Shh.” Leaning forward, he brushed his palm around her bare foot, sliding it behind her thigh and creeping his fingers above her hip to trace the length of her spine until he surpassed her shoulder and lightly met her jaw. His thumb, as always, fit perfectly in the dent of her chin, the dent she’d wished none of their children had inherited. How he adored it,  _ adored her  _ and the glow magnifying the sunshine of her creamy skin tone, more so her face. “Go back to sleep, my love.”

“Wait.” 

In the starlight, it was as though a thousand candles had been lit inside her skin. The flames swayed with the faint, secretive smile she had fallen asleep to on her lips. And he would gladly burn. 

Her eyes, heavy with fatigue, closed at the same moment her lips captured his sweetly. 

His lips cherished it in return, prolonging their kiss as their tongues languidly stroked one another’s. 

“I love you too,” he said, speechlessly. 

There was no need to worry, no. They would not lose their daughter. They would be alright, if he brought heaven to their home again and again. 

She smiled. “Yeah?”

“Most wholeheartedly.”

“I know.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Do you believe she does?” he asked, teetering on the edge of his dread. 

Perhaps an eternity passed. 

Until Emma’s voice. Emma’s light. 

“She’s like me,” she said, “She needs your voice. She needs  _ you _ too.”

And there it was. The certainty that, by some miracle, settled deep in his bones. The knowledge that his children, along with Emma, had saved his soul. 

Indeed it would be a silent night tonight. 

**  
  
  
**

**Author's Note:**

> -Merry christmas, my lovely Oncers!!!


End file.
